


Ennobled

by flayrie



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22785682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flayrie/pseuds/flayrie
Summary: Fantasy AU smut one-shot: “You belong here,” she insisted. “These soft lordlings have naught to compare to your prowess on the battlefield. My father chose you for a reason. I chose you for a reason.” “You chose me?”
Relationships: Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Ennobled

**Author's Note:**

> This might turn into a series of one-shots set in the same universe depending on demand. Guess we'll see.

The air was thick with the threat of rain. It was even more palpable looking out the window of the northeast tower, mist seeping into the curtains. The heir to the estate tore her eyes from her embroidery and peered down as the children of her closest vassal ran through the wheat, letting their tiny hands caress the heads of grain while they chased each other with abandon. Living without a care was not a luxury she could afford.

A girl of sixteen could be wed, and she was. Relena Peacecraft was no longer. She had been betrothed to House Clark’s heir since the moon first blessed her womb, and not once did she protest her duty. Many a lord from the neighbouring kingdoms voiced their concerns only to be rebuffed. They saw her as naught but a slip of a girl with golden hair fit to be brushed to a shine and wide blue eyes to feign interest in their affairs; a trinket to parade at court while they left bastards at every port. She would sooner die than be a broodmare.

Lord Clark was beneath her station yet a contradiction of tension and arrogance. He cared little for people simpering for his favor and dressed to reflect his indifference. Regardless of the celebration, he came in boiled leather jodhpurs and plain cotton shirts stained with dirt from the field. There was often mud caked in his hair, staining it an even darker brown than its natural hue. A bastard through and through. They say being born of passion left his blood hot, stoking the fire in his deep blue eyes.

When their wedding was announced on her fifteenth birthday, she did him the kindness of asking him to dance, knowing the pleasantries of court eluded him. To his credit, he had led her with grace, guiding her with the same easy footwork he honed in swordplay.

_“This is a farce,” he whispered. “A princess has no business marrying a bastard.”_

_"Lord Clark, you-”_

_"Don’t call me that,” he snarled. “It’s Heero. No amount of polish or pretend will change anything.”_

_"You belong here,” she insisted. “These soft lordlings have naught to compare to your prowess on the battlefield. My father chose you for a reason. I chose you for a reason.”_

_“You chose me?”_

It had been amusing to see his eyes go wide, bruised lips parting in surprise. She kept that memory of him close as she did her needlepoint, joining the sigils of their two houses on a handkerchief: a white dove perched on a golden lion against a field of blue. House Clark’s banners burned long ago but Heero now had a new one to fight under.

The friar had tied their fates together in the ruins of his family’s great hall, binding them with vows whispered to his ancestors. Once it was all said and done, Heero’s regent had stepped between them with an apology, startling Relena with the flash of light from his glass eye.

_"I am deeply sorry, Your Highness,” he bowed. “Lord Clark has been called to the field. Your allies are holding the line for now but Lord Winner’s latest strategy requires replenishment to the infantry. It will be a fortnight before we can get supplies to them if we don’t leave now.”_

_"Shrewd,” she muttered. “I trust you will deliver my husband back safely, Lord Jay. Our marriage bed can wait.”_

The slightest hint of a blush had played on Heero’s cheeks then. He left her with little more than a kiss on the forehead before he was whisked away. At least, she wouldn’t be waiting much longer. Good tidings came on the wings of her father’s carrier dove: the battle was won. Soon, he would be navigating the niceties of court once again, trying the mettle of his armor against the knives of a thousand whispers.

Even as the first few drops of rain pattered against her windowsill, her servants carried on scurrying all over the grounds, preparing a grand spread for the arrival of their new lord at daybreak. All this bluster for someone who couldn’t care less for any of it. Heero had come from nothing, and still carried himself with the air of a man with something to prove. His bearing was one of the many things that endeared Relena to him.

A series of dull knocks snapped her out of her reverie. Who could be coming to her chambers at this time of day? She set her needlepoint down and closed the window, bare feet pattering on the floor as she made her way to the door. At the moment, she was hardly fit to be seen, comfortably dressed in her cotton undergarments with no intention of entertaining company.

“Who is it?” she called out, hand hovering over the door pull. One would think that everyone knew to leave her alone as she readied herself for her husband’s return.

“It’s me.”

A muffled declaration yet gruff all the same. Heero? He wasn’t due back until dawn. Slowly, she pulled the door open to see him standing there, lips pressed together in a thin line as he wore his version of formality: the same old cotton and jodhpurs. Cleaner than usual, though. Someone had taken the trouble of combing out the brown mop on his head, and there wasn’t a speck of mud on him.

“Oh…”

“Oh?” he echoed, crossing the threshold without asking to be let in. She pushed the door shut behind him as their eyes met. Outside, the thunder began to rumble.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she murmured, all too aware of her state of undress. “I’m not fit to welcome you, my lord.”

Her face was aflame yet he carried on staring at her, taking in the sight of her body in such little clothing.

“Fair play,” he grunted, bending down to unlace his boots. He shrugged his shirt off next, tossing it to the floor without a care. “This is all the welcome I wanted.”

Closing the distance between them, he tipped her chin up with his calloused fingers before she could avert her gaze.

“Heero…”

Hearing his old name brought a slight smile to his lips as he leaned in to kiss her, his tongue savoring the softness of her mouth. He tasted of honeyed wine, hinting at liquid courage urging him to come to her door. Before she knew it, he was pushing her backwards, lowering her into bed as his mouth continued its brash assault.

_Now? He wants to bed me now?_

Bawdy tales did talk of how battle could stoke a man’s fire. She gasped as he finally broke the kiss and raised himself up on his arms to look her in the eye. His hands were each flat on either side of her head, making a loose cage of his body atop her. 

“If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he pleaded, voice husky with desire.

He was exerting the control of a seasoned warrior, shuddering as her hand lifted to trace the line of a scar on his chest. With his shirt off, she could see an entire map chronicling all the battles he had fought. None had ever felled him.

But he would fall to her today.

“Make me yours,” she crooned, lifting her hips to brush against the growing bulge in his pants. This was their sacred duty, to join as one and cement the union between their houses; all his pain in exchange for the warmth and comfort of her bed for many years to come.

With a growl, he plundered her mouth once again, trying to balance his weight on one hand as his other hand worked on undoing his jodhpurs. Once his pants slid to the floor, he began to palm the heft of her breasts through the cotton of her shift, sending jolts through her body. She moaned into his kisses, arching up to feel the hardness of his erection against her thigh. The proof of his desire was undeniable.

His mouth wandered, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips before following a trail to the crook at her neck. The heat of his breath against her ear sent tingles down her spine while the hand at her breasts drifted down to pull at the stays keeping her bloomers in place.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

He hesitated to pull her bloomers down, bringing things to a halt as his head stayed buried in the crook of her neck. She lifted a hand to stroke his back, reassuring him. The tension in his body spoke volumes as he tried to fight the throbbing of his erection. For a man known for wreaking havoc on the battlefield, he was a gentle lover. She had heard stories of him cutting down whole insurgencies all on his own. Could that very same man really be holding back for fear of causing her pain? Hesitation was often fatal on the battlefield so it was a revelation to see him indulge it in her bed.

“You’ve offered your body up to this kingdom more times than I can count,” she said, trying to comfort him. “Let me return the favor.”

She slid her bloomers down herself, bucking up to stroke the tip of his cock with the wetness between her thighs. He groaned, lifting himself back up on his arms to try and lower himself into her slowly. Breathing deep, she braced herself as he made her way inside her, finally joining their bodies as one. Time itself seemed to freeze as he took her maidenhead. She bit her lip, wincing as he began to move.

“It’s all right,” she insisted through gritted teeth when he began to still. “Keep moving.”

Their rhythm was slow, nothing like the bawdy tales told down at the tavern. He gazed deep in her eyes, almost looking to her for guidance. Was it possible that he’d never done this before? She thought for sure that he would have had a wench or two, at least. Though rough around the edges, Heero was a sight to behold with rippling muscles forged in battle and fiery eyes that saw into one’s very soul. He couldn’t possibly be hers alone. Did he really trust her to be his only satisfaction?

The initial pain of his movements inside her soon faded into a dull ache before making way for pleasure. With a particularly sharp thrust, he drew a moan from her, banishing everything beyond their union. The rush of being one with him was overwhelming. Though still cautious, he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, groaning as their shared passion pulsed through his body. Yet again, he was holding back, trying to please her. She bucked up in challenge, pulling him deeper inside, eliciting a guttural growl from him. The heat was building between them, pitch rising in each of her succeeding moans.

“Heero,” she begged. “Please…”

Her climax crashed over her like a wave as he collapsed, shuddering as he spilled his seed inside her. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around him, clenching around his cock, taking as much as he would give. Thunder crashed outside as her blood sang in her veins, warming her body like a roaring fire. He rested his head against her chest, breathing hard. Her fingers ran through his hair as she wondered if she ever wanted to leave her bed again. The steady pitter-patter of rain outside slowly brought them back to reality as he softened, slipping out of her.

“We should get you cleaned up,” he asserted, trying to take back control.

She shook her head, pulling him into a heady kiss to duel him into surrender.

“We have time, Heero,” she assured him. “Let’s stay like this a little longer.”

With a sigh, he relented, wrapping his arms around her. She tucked herself close, relishing the warmth of his body. Though she was uncertain whether or not love might blossom between them, for now, this was enough.


End file.
